“What is it about the rock, Severance? Why do you want it?”
He clutched it protectively. “Warm. Feels good. Feels warm I’m so cold.”
“You’re already burning up,” she whispered,.knowing that he didn’t really hear her. “Lie down and I’ll see if I can break that fever.” She pushed him down onto the ground. He curled around the stone and closed his eyes.
He did seem calmer, Cidra decided as she began bathing him. Perhaps the stone was having some beneficial effect. She couldn’t imagine what it could be, though. When she touched it, the hard, smooth sphere felt faintly warm. Perhaps it carried a residue of the heat it had collected during the day.
The hours dragged on toward dawn. With one eye on the small movements that occasionally occurred around the edge of the circle, and another on Severance, Cidra kept watch and worried about the fever. The pulser was never far from her hand, although she no longer had any fear of something crossing the unseen boundary of the circle. She kept the pulser close primarily because Severance’s last, clear instructions had been to do so. He was still the pilot in command, she thought as she filled the water bag for the fifth time. And she was still the one and only member of his crew.
As dawn filtered slowly through the tangle of overhead leaves and vines, Cidra decided that the stone wasn’t doing Severance much good. He still clung to it, but she didn’t like the way he seemed to have become dependent on it. The fever wasn’t abating, and the added warmth of the stone might easily be doing harm. Kneeling beside him, Cidra tried to remove it from his grasp.
“No.” He reacted sharply, protecting the sphere with both arms. For a moment his eyes opened, staring at her with fierce resistance. “Don’t touch it,” he said very clearly.
They were the first clear words he had spoken all night. Cidra tried to reason with him. “It’s warm, Severance. You need to be cool. Give me the stone. You can have it back later.”
“Don’t touch it.” His eyes closed again, but his grip on the stone didn’t loosen.
Cidra gave up on the task and went back to trying to cool him down with stream water. Around the perimeter of the circle the shift from night to day was taking place. A few choked shrieks marked the efforts of a few lingering hunters. She was getting used to the sounds of the jungle, Cidra realized dispassionately. She was amazed at how many things she was becoming accustomed to seeing, hearing, and doing these days.
As the day began to warm, Cidra became aware of a slight dizzy sensation. The light-headedness Severance had warned her about, she assumed. She wasn’t sure what to do about it. She didn’t dare risk eating any of the plant life. Severance had been convinced that there was too much possibility of being poisoned. Without die proper equipment she couldn’t test for toxins.
For a while she tried to convince herself that she could go another day without eating. After all, she had fasted more than once for a day or two in a secret effort to open her stubborn mind. It had been a long time ago, back when she had still believed she might be able to catapult herself into Harmonic hood by sheer willpower. The exercise hadn’t worked, although it had produced a light-headed feeling that for a while convinced her she might be onto some useful technique.
The problem today was that she simply couldn’t afford to be light-headed. Not with Harmony-knew-what prowling around outside the circle and a sick man on her hands. She had to maintain her strength, both physically and mentally. And that meant she was going to have to find something to eat.
She glanced toward the perimeter of the protected ground, looking for the remains of the hopper Severance had skinned and cleaned the previous evening. He had pushed the entrails outside the circle. There was no sign of anything, not even the head. Renaissance had taken care of the garbage in its own sure fashion.
Not that she wanted to eat whatever was left of the poor hopper. Cidra’s stomach grew queasy again just at the thought. She went back to the endless task of bathing Severance and tried to put food out of her mind.
But when she stumbled a little on a trip to the stream, she began to worry. She had no idea how long she was going to be trapped inside this circle with Severance. Common sense dictated that she not let herself grow weak. She was going to have to eat. Just existing on this planet seemed to take a lot of inner energy. Cidra eyed the pulser and wondered how hard it would be to hit something such as the hopper.
Surely the principles of aiming and firing a weapon couldn’t be fundamentally different than the task of collecting and focusing a mind for deep, concentrated study. Harmonic philosophy taught that all things could be assessed and comprehended. In addition to focusing and concentration, she would need a certain amount of coordination, Cidra supposed. She had that from her training in Moonlight and Mirrors.
Picking up the pulser, she went to the edge of the circle and sat cross-legged. It could be a long wait until something edible wandered close enough to assure her a clear shot. She took the time to slowly clear her mind of extraneous thought. If she was going to do this, she would do it quickly and cleanly. Using the techniques of meditation, she willed herself to an outer and inner stillness. She would become one with the weapon, not a fake Harmonic holding a foreign instrument of destruction. She must make the pulser an extension of herself.
Deliberately she fused herself and the pulser into a single entity. It wasn’t particularly difficult once she had cleared her mind of the ramifications of what she was about to do. In some ways she was merely applying the methods she used for programming a computer or writing a poem. The underlying philosophical harmony of all tasks was the same.
Time passed, bringing nothing into range except a slithering green snake that didn’t look very edible to Cidra. She waited. Behind her Severance was quiet, still wrapped around his precious rock.
When the small hopper flitted into view, Cidra’s hand came up and her finger squeezed the trigger without any hesitation. It was what she had been waiting for, and her body responded accordingly. The hopper flipped over, quivered for a second, and then went limp. Cidra lowered the pulser.
Slowly she got to her feet and shook herself out of the trance. As she stared at the dead creature all of her natural revulsion to eating meat returned in a sickening wave. This time she kept her stomach under control. She stepped cautiously out of the circle, caught the hopper by the ears, and yanked it back to safety.
For a moment she simply looked at her catch, wondering how she was going to find the nerve to cut into it. She had almost talked herself out of making the effort when she experienced another wave of unsteadiness. There was no point in waiting any longer. Resolutely she went over to where Severance lay and reached into the utility loop for the knife.
